some people walk just to walk, while others walk just to forget.

My walking is to pick up the forgotten memories one by one. A friend once advised me not to write those dark and deadly words, but to yearn for an ordinary life. I can drink a little wine, play mahjong, or bubble tea houses ... But I still didn't accept such advice. Words and I have become an indispensable part of life.

A few years ago, I went to Gannan, Longnan and Aba twice because of my work. After the earthquake in 28, I also went to Jiuzhaigou with several classmates. Especially in 211, I went to Labuleng Temple, Luqu and Maqu in Gannan, and went to the First Bay of the Yellow River in Tangke Town, Ruolegai County. Standing at the top of the plank road overlooking, the clear and calm river flows quietly on the grassland, winding from a distance, silky and tender like a ribbon, which is still fresh in my memory.

On vacation this year, some friends met and finally set foot on the trip to Gannan, Longnan and western Sichuan again. Nine people in the same company. Two Toyota off-road vehicles. Lao Zhu introduced everyone, all of whom looked like people at first sight. Except for editor-in-chief Chen, I am old, which makes me feel a little sad. In Lanzhou, Guo's relatives have booked a good lunch, a very rich table. But because it was very hot, I ate very little. After eating, I stood at the door of the store to drink water and wait. After a short stay in Lanzhou, I drove on to Xiahe River. All the scenery was familiar to me, so I was too lazy to see it. When I woke up, I arrived at Xiahe, and the time was more than 5 pm. This is the tourist season, and there are many pedestrians on the street. A friend of mine works here, but unfortunately he doesn't have his mobile phone number and can't be contacted. So I called Yang, the partner, and entrusted her to make a hotel reservation for Xia He's friends. From the whole trip, I stayed in Xiahe as the best hotel in the whole trip, but at that time, I thought it was already the most humble hotel I had ever stayed in. But not unhappy. Accompany Zhu to register at the bar, and the red brick bar is covered with photos taken by the boss himself. There is a simple bookshelf next to it, and there are some books about travel and history and philosophy scattered on it. I took a book and read it casually.

The night in the summer river is cold, and the wind is blowing on me, which is cool. We walked around the Daxia River and were caught in a heavy rain, which drove us back to the hotel. In the lobby, I saw some tourists from go on road trip from the south. These people you meet along the way will often meet in the later journey. Smile.

after a simple dinner, lie in bed and rest. But still insomnia. Listening to Zhu's even breathing in the middle of the night, I feel at ease and quiet, vaguely thinking of some distant cities and people, like a black-and-white film for a long time, vague and feel slightly sad.

The next morning, after a simple breakfast, we went to Labrang Temple. Labrang Monastery is one of the highest Buddhist institutions of the Gelug Sect of Tibetan Buddhism, and its meridian passage corridor is the longest in the world. His pattern reminds me of ancient castles, red clay buildings, old wooden doors and iron locks. Long alleys, except for the chapel and the White Pagoda, are mostly houses where lamas live. Only Tibetans with prayer wheels and beads are passing by, that is, the Lama in red. Their faces are gloomy, and they have turned a blind eye to us. Such a silence. Some Tibetans who visited the shrine knelt down, unable to bend over, got up, knelt down and went back and forth three times, then got up and stood. The kind of security that has nothing to do with the world and is immersed in its own world makes people feel moved unconsciously.

Before I came to Gannan, I read a book about writing about Tibet. Those casual words hit a certain part of my body, but I couldn't explain it. I think maybe in my heart, the author and I are both people who long for silence.

There are two roads leading to Langmu Temple. One goes to Hezuo via National Highway 213. The other one goes to langmusi via Xiahe Airport and National Highway 212. I walked the first one, but I don't know how to get to the last one. I called Yang, who is cooperating, and she said that the road through Xiahe Airport is narrow, but the scenery is unique. So we set out from Xiahe County, passed Airport Road, entered the mountains, and went to A Mu. Then we went along National Highway 213, passed Gahai and Gomba, and reached langmusi.

along the way, the sky was high and the sun was clear. There are also clouds between the distant ridges, which cover the peaks. But it can't hide the beauty and magnificence of the scenery along the way.

Between heaven and earth, there are houses with white walls and red roofs in twos and threes, with smoke curling up and rivers flowing. Thick grass, like a thick carpet, stretches out of sight.

On the grassland, children's faces change as they say. It was sunny just now, but now it is overcast. After Zhadai, the rain gradually increased, and the road was smooth and slippery. Editor-in-chief Chen's hope of taking pictures on the grassland was dashed. And Zhu has been reminding Xiao Chen, who is driving, to slow down and slow down again. I was in the car silently thinking about those long-ago things. Over the years, sometimes I would talk endlessly. Sometimes I can stay silent for days. And I face myself every day, just like facing an isolated world, where there is always a movie with no ending, a black and white silent film. Me and my own film, silent and deep. The scene was handed over, and the characters appeared in turn. The only thing that remained unchanged was me sitting under the stage, watching my slowly withered smile on the stage until it disappeared.

A heavy rain came, and it made a clear sound on the window. There was no more sound except the sound of raindrops, and silence began to speak. Looking through the window, on the road, there are also cyclists in the rain, wearing thin raincoats, taking their time and walking alone. I am impressed by their courage and bravery. There are also old people wearing Tibetan clothes walking on the road. They look at others and only have the direction of travel in their hearts. As soon as the bus passed A Mu, it soon reached Nimalong and luqu. The rain also stopped. There is a river that has been following along a certain road. I don't know what its name is. Look at the map and it is not marked.

At the end of Luqu, cars were blocked and we stopped. Everyone was ready to go to langmusi. A short middle-aged man, standing in front of our car, said that there was an accident in front. Three cars collided, but they have moved away and will be able to pass soon. So, we stood in the cold wind and waited patiently. After about 2 minutes. The road was finally cleared, and we continued to drive to our destination.

Gahai, perhaps the freshwater lake with the highest altitude, has clear water, but it's a pity that the rain came again soon, and the window was blurred and nothing could be seen. At Gomba, the rain stopped again, and some herdsmen's houses and schools were built on both sides of the road. The white walls and red tiles and golden roofs were dazzling. We met a group of children on their way home, dressed in lovely Tibetan costumes, wrapped in headscarves, wearing masks and carrying bulging schoolbags. There are also a few wild pigs walking slowly through the road, acting like no one else's watching.

The time to arrive at Langmu Temple is after 2 o'clock in the afternoon. Settle everything. Decided to have lunch. Zhu and I searched for a place to eat along the street. The place for lunch is a snack street opened by Sichuanese, and I ordered some fried dishes and rice. The food gives off a strong aroma, which makes people feel satisfied. When we were eating, a young Tibetan man, with a dark face, patted the board in his hand and said difficult words as soon as he entered the door. I was desolate and gave it to 1 yuan. Think of Zhang ailing's famous sentence: that desolate gesture has nothing to say.

Langmu Temple is not a temple, but the name of the town. The Bailong River passes through Xiure Valley Ranch and crosses the street with the ancient coolness of the snow-capped mountains. In the depression, Langmu Temple Town is divided into two parts, one in Gansu and the other in Sichuan. Geerdi Temple, langmusi and Mosque, which are much higher than residents' buildings, belong to the residence of God, and the smoke rising from the roof is still filled with human fireworks.

instead of staying here, we decided to climb the mountain. There are five-color prayer flags floating in the wind on the mountain. It is said that the prayer flags exist to send scriptures. Every time the wind blows, the Tibetan scriptures on the prayer flags will spread with the wind. And I think, there are always some things that cannot be passed on. Those thoughts that had no destination. In order to avoid altitude sickness, we walked slowly. As we approached the Cangnama Gorge, we also met a family of foreigners who had just come down from it. Young couple, three lovely children. From behind them, you can see the rolling mountains, and the gray rocks are exposed, which looks like snow-capped mountains from a distance. Standing between heaven and earth, vigorous and barren. Behind it is the red cliff.

The wind on the plateau, carrying hot air, blows through the valley of the mountain plain and whispers on the bent grass. On the way, I passed a cabin where the Mani wheel was placed, and an old lady sat in the oblique sunshine and quietly turned the classics. We didn't bother her. How many years have passed? No one remembers it clearly. Mothers always warm up in the scriptures with their milking hands.

after reaching the source of Bailong river, we didn't go deep into the canyon and decided to return. In fact, there is another place worth mentioning and seeing in langmusi. It is the main hall dedicated to the Buddha. However, due to the opposition of my peers and time constraints, I came twice and missed it. In fact, the only people who can treat death calmly are Tibetans, because they have the religious ideal of soul circulation. Driven by the tide of modernization, they did not lose themselves, but chanted and turned scriptures under the constraint of faith. They are people living in another world. And we have been kidnapped in the tree of desire for wealth and power, and the flowers that bloom occasionally have been confined to the love between men and women, dying.

along the long stone steps and soil slopes, we walked through the pagodas and temples and gradually realized the artistic conception. There are many children in Lama costumes running past us. These children, with snot and ultraviolet rays, left a dark red forever on a tender little face. Their family sent him to the Lama Temple and devoted their whole lives to the spirit without reservation. Children of this age should have been sitting in the classroom instead of reciting scriptures under butter lamps. For them, this is a simple world.

The rain fell again, and we quickly finished our last stop at the Zhaimu Temple and moved on. The smiles of the Tibetans and the calmness of the little lamas that don't belong to that age have fixed all the unhappiness about life in this sunny afternoon in langmusi ... < P > And that piece of the past has become a paragraph that I play back all the time, full of colorful banners, wind flags, Lama Temple, Manidui and so on.